She walks to the mailbox each morning at 9; every day she's thinking she's one day behind. (At least when it comes to the mail.)

I've come to the conclusion that getting fired is very much akin to going through a break-up with someone you were very much in love with, but who then devastated you for no good reason.

In the beginning, you cry. You cry a lot. You cry until you realize you've been so depressed, you haven't changed clothes, or even showered, for like three days.

Then, that passes. And you get mad. Really, really mad. How dare they break up with you? How dare they fire you quasi-unexpectedly? You gave the best years of your life to that relationship and the best hours of your week to that job. How DARE they?

Then you start telling everyone that you're better off without your ex. Or that job you got fired from. "I'm better than them," you say. "I'm so much happier without them. They were holding me back. I'm going to be a rock star and find a new boyfriend/girlfriend/job really soon, because anyone would be lucky to have me." And you start thinking about all the things you can do now that you have some spare time on your hands. "I can learn French! I can take up painting! I can read more books!"

Then you start to get a little depressed because you have no new prospects. Your Match.com profile (or your resume) is going unread. And you have to sit around and listen to your friends bitch about their love lives (or how much they have to work) and you're thinking, "At least you HAVE SOMEONE!" ("At least you HAVE A JOB!")

And then the day comes when you run into your ex's friends. They ask how you're doing, and you put on a gigantic smile and say great, you couldn't be better, you're actually seeing someone. Or, in the alternate scenario, you get a facebook message from a former co-worker asking how things are panning out for you because "inquiring minds want to know." Well I'll tell you, sweet cheeks, if inquiring minds want to know, they can ask me themselves. When I finally get around to answering that message, I can assure you all, it will be sunshine and roses.

So then, a month or so goes by, and you're feeling better. You're ready to put yourself back together, to pick yourself up after your humiliating dumping. You're seeing other people. Nothing serious, but you're putting yourself back out there. And then one day, out of nowhere, you're at the store, and you run into them. You thought you were ready for it, but you're not. And you realize just how much you miss them. You know they weren't good for you, you know your future is better off without them, but you still miss them. Mine came in the form of a massage therapist I know putting a page on facebook so you could become her "fan." When I was looking at her pictures, I saw that she had one up of the story I wrote for her, the cover of that issue, and on the picture of her actually massaging someone, I saw she had the story and the cover framed and on the wall. That was me. That was all me. Vi wanted to throw her into the Business section of the paper, a little 7 to 10 inch story, but I took her and made her a page-long story and gave her the cover.

I was on my way to becoming a superstar. And then it was gone. And now I'm. . .I'm pretty much nothing. And I'm feeling like pretty much nothing.

I had coffee with MK the other day, and we were talking about business cards. He asked me, "What would you put on a business card for yourself?" and I couldn't think of a damn thing. Even though you're not supposed to define yourself by your career, I did. I was the Editor. That was what I did, that's who I was. And that was taken from me, and I feel like I have absolutely nothing to offer anymore. I don't do anything. No one wants me for anything.

There was more I was going to say, but I'm tired, and I'm going to go to bed. I'm on the brink right now. A brink of a serious depression that is going to take me months to pull myself out of. I recognize being on this particular brink, because I've been here many times before. And I know once I go over the edge, it's going to be a bitch to get away from. It always is. But I don't have anything right now. And the things I do have aren't even really mine. This girl I know, who also has been having a rough time recently, said that sometimes, she just wishes a tree would fall on her. I completely understand this.

I have been, for the better part of the evening, cataloging, in my head, a list of my epic failures over the years. I really don't have a lot to show at this point. I can't even interview for Best Buy correctly.

One thing I have discovered I'm good at, though, is hiding the fact that I occasionally wish for that tree to fall. I'm amazed at how many people have commented on how well I'm handling everything and how great my attitude is. That, my friends, is talent at its finest.